Blunt
by Malatosh
Summary: A sick and twisted attempt of a parody. Funny yet disturbing. Will contain slash, possible rape, swearing, violence etc. Rating may go up for later chapters. Long awaited Chapter 3, The Village People just out. Chapter 4 Hand Bags at the ready out soon go
1. Who is Blunt?

Disclaimer: I DO NOT, HAVE NOT, OR WILL EVER OWN THE CHARACTERS FOR THE FILM BLADE. HAPPY NOW?! Please do not sue I'm still broke because my lotto numbers won't come up.

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Chapter One

Who is Blunt

Blunt stood on a low roof top, dramatically placed to catch the last rays of the dying sun. He looked out over the vast glittering spread of Los Angeles; the wide city twinkled in the red light until it looked almost alive. "I am a thing that has no name; I'm a creature of the night that loves the day. I scour the streets, looking for a fight with those whose hearts have no beat, and to think if I had stopped for ice cream then I would be nothing like I am today"  
  
Ten years, two months, eleven days and I believe 12 minutes ago, is the day that Blunt became the 'man' he is today .

_He was an average 14 year old teenager; the idea of girls was just becoming an overwhelming feeling. As he strolled back home from his friend's house he jammed his brown hands deep into the pockets of his faded jeans, playing with the loose change in them, and raising his head, whistled a cheerful tune. The soft melody hung on the summer's air, floating softly on the warm breeze.  
  
The setting sun shone down on the dusty path he walked, casting long shadows. Blunt looked at his watch and scowled darkly, he was late home. Wonderful, he thought with dark sarcasm. I'm dead meat. Little did he know that he was about to be a lot later then he could ever have imagined.  
  
The last rays of the dying sun stained the darkening sky, like ketchup stains a white shirt. A familiar cheerful jingle greeted Blunt's ears, and with a smile he turned to see the welcome sight of a white ice cream truck winding down the street. Sticking out a hand Blunt flagged it down and opening his mouth prepared to order his favourite. Only to be stopped by the truly horrifying sight that would scar his young mind permanently, something so terrible that it would be advertised in his dreams for years to come...  
  
They were out of mint choc chip ice-cream.  
  
His young hopes crushed under the hostile corporate takeover of Dark Chocolate, he turned sadly away from the gleaming van and continued to head for home.  
  
As he turned into the park, two shadowy men followed him. One was tall and slim with a pink polo necked shirt on, attached to his belt was what looked like a dildo, but, in actual fact it was a rolling pin. The other was small and fat wearing yellow golf trousers.  
  
Blunt passed a bench (that has no significance what so ever), and was so wrapped up in his depressed thought; that he failed to notice the two, oddly-shaped, black shadows stalking him. Which was rather surprising really, considering that they were making enough noise to wake the un-dead?  
  
As he walked a little bit further than before he finally noticed the two men following him he turned round to ask them what they wanted, but as he did so he realised that, there was no one behind him, the mysterious men had disappeared.  
  
He stopped talking as it looked like he was going insane, talking to thin air. Who's heard of such a thing? He slowly turned around to face the way he was going originally. But before he had even turned 15 degrees a rolling pin attached to a man's arms smacked him on the back of the knee caps. And as if that wasn't painful enough, Blunt fell to the floor landing on the front of his knee caps.  
  
Blunt screamed in the highest falsetto voice a man has. Seriously his voice could have pierced a man from 500 yards with more accuracy than a highly professional sniper riffle, specially calibrated for the job. The two men over powered him, then raped him four ways from Sunday._

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Thank you for taking the time in your life, to sit bored and read my chapter. Until I win the lottery please don't sue. Until next time. 


	2. Whisper in all his glory

Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own the original characters. I have however borrowed them tortured them and screwed them up royally. For the rest of this story they are mine to tease and annoy. Do not sue me as I'm broke. Do not flame me I'm not to be trifled with. Or else, I will set the un-dead vampire on you, you meany.

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Chapter Two  
  
Whisper in all his glory  
  
A train clattered noisily by an old rickety warehouse, its loud whistle making enough noise to wake the dead, which was the whole point really. Perched rather precariously on the warehouses fragile roof, Blunt surveyed his territory with a superior sneer plastered on his face.  
  
He was interestingly clothed in bright black, complete with stylish armoured plating. A long thick leather coat swished down past his ankles; however the dominant effect was slightly ruined by the bright orange furry feathers around the bottom. His face was graced with drag queen shades complete with orange ostrich feathers. Sheathed across his back was the weapon that would drive terror into the dark un-beating heart of Los Angeles...

A spatula...  
  
Blunt stood there in all his glory. The sun beat down on him causing a rivulet of sweat to trace its way down his red cheek. Leather may _look_ impressive but it's not the most comfortable thing to wear in a 100 degree heat wave. He slowly, majestically, took one step forward before making a total ass of him self by falling through roof and landing flat on his face. Seriously, that body armour is heavy.  
  
He lay still for a short moment as the dust settled, before starting to struggle. Unfortunately the thick plate armour that coated him, whilst looking damn impressive, was also damn heavy.  
  
"Whisper!" he shouted  
  
"Whisper, you fool get over here!!" he cried frustratedly, his high pitched falsetto voice once again reaching an impressive decibel level, that you wouldn't have really thought a man his size was capable of making. In the distance a dog howled in protest.  
  
From behind a pile of broken pipes, stepped a foot, shod in an incredibly cool looking biker boot. Making, what can only be described as one of the most dramatic entrances in Hollywood, Whisper revealed himself to the relived gaze of his hysterical partner.  
  
As he strode out he revealed: leather trousers, a dark strategically ripped shirt and a long necklace with a two dragons wrapped around a gleaming sword. Perhaps the most striking thing about his appearance though was his crowning glory. Long gold (and I mean _gold_, not blonde) hair gelled up into impressive points. A tiny gleam of light drew Blunt's attention to a new addition to his partner; a chrome skull earring glinted dangerously in his left ear.  
  
Now I know what you're thinking... how cool. I know that because I am too (cool I mean). And he would be... if he wasn't only 1.6 feet tall  
  
"Whisper get this thing off me, it's too heavy!" Blunt cried in exasperation (and pain because the plating was crushing his ribs) tiny tears gleamed in his dark eyes, and Whisper snorted when he realised his partner was on the point of bursting into tears again.  
  
"I need you to make it thinner and lighter!" he shrieked  
  
Whisper rolled his eyes in a why me? expression before kneeling down next to his slowly flattening partner, Blunt's face, (which had now turned an attractive shade or purple and clashed horribly with his orange feathers) screwed up into something that he thought looked like a cute pout, but in actual fact looked like he was dealing with an acute bout of constipation.  
  
Moving deftly from years of long practice, Whisper stripped his partner of the offending armour and, knees buckling slightly under its heavy weight, he staggered off around the corner. Blunt followed him, massive head hanging, so that he resembled a beaten puppy. Thus exited the terror of LA's un-dead population.

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Well there it is my second chapter. I hope you liked it. Please, please, please write a review so I can find out what you guys/girls think. Flamers will be laughed at...

Then disposed off.

I would like to thank my two editors, "I'm a happy potato" and "Dancingwolves" with out them there would be so many grammer and spelling mistakes.

Thank you


	3. The Village People

Disclaimer :If I owned Blade (which I don't ) you wouldn't see me writing a crap Mickey-take of my own film, that's just crazy talk. But for those muppets that haven't already guessed here I go.

I DO NOT IN ANYWAY OWN BLADE THE CHARACTERS THE MERCHENDICE (OR THE HAIR CUT). So there.

OR the rights of the mini corporation.

**Chapter Three**

"**The village people" **

A mini cooper sped down the ally way at an impressive 45 mph, kicking up dust in its wake. In it sat two men. The 'man' (and I use the term loosely) behind the wheel was tall and lean with a yellow polo neck shirt, (because, of course, vampires own the entire clothing industry, and they seem to have an odd penchant for polo neck shirts, just one of those odd quirks of nature). His companion sat uncomfortably scrunched into the small car. He flicked beads of sweat off of his drooping moustache nervously.

"I want you to know, I don't usually go out with strange guys like this, but you seem like a nice guy." The moustached man commented, apparently not content to sit in silence.

The driver sneered slightly, flashing a hint of fang but didn't respond. His eyes flicked yellow momentarily before returning to their normal blue.

The man, not one of natures' quitters, continued blithely "So where are we going anyway?"

"It's a surprise," the vampire murmured after a moment, "It does have the best singers and dancers in the world though," he admitted grudgingly.

The mini came to a slow halt.

The vampire sneered; it was an impressive sneer, a kind of sneer that would have been practiced extensively in front of a mirror (or, in the vampires' case, like-minded friends) to get the exact tone of contempt perfect. It was an artwork of a sneer. "Get out." He snapped. "We're here"

The man "I can't say I take kindly to that tone of voice."

"Get over it" Replied the vampire in a sarcastic voice.

They walked through the door of an old theatre. Inside was a massive ball area. With a bar in the corner, tables everywhere and a dance floor, near the back of the room. But right at the back of the room was a stage. Stood upon it was a man, (or so we think.) He had long bleached hair which brought out the blue in his eyes.

"Welcome. And now for your entertainment let me introduce to you now, live…

IT'S THE VILLAGE PEOPLE." Shouted the man into a micro-phone.

From behind it the village people stood. There backs turned to the audience.

Then as the 5 men slowly turned around, each man, looking scarier than the next, (Which isn't hard when you've got. An Indian, a biker boy, a police man, a builder and a sailor all stood on a stage.)

Then the men started to _sing_. They sang a song that drives fear into little kids, a song that infects the married population to get up and dance at your cousin's party and embarrass you, a song that everyone knows the words for because as a kid radio two forced you to listen to…

They sang…

The Y.M.C.A

Dramatic, dun dun der 

Enter our hero … That's blunt in case you didn't know.

The ceiling glass window smashed as a dark shadowed man wearing orange furry feathers at the bottom of his leather coat he hit the floor curled up in the same way a Hollywood entrance would look like.

As he hit the floor he let out a shriek of pain and curled up into a ball crying, "_my ankle, I've twisted my ankle"_

Whisper walked in through the front door slapping two vampires's round the face with a spatula, as he did they dropped to the floor and burst into flame.

"I_f we go in through the front door we'll surprise them" _

Whisper said sarcastically under his breath.

"_I want to make a dramatic entrance with my new feathers" _

Whisper was mimicking blunt.

"_Now you've gone a twisted your ankle and it's me to the rescue" _

Whisper continued to take the piss.

As one of the village people dived at blunt, whisper threw the spatula at him. The spatula was spinning at an impressive speed until it hit the vampire… with the butt of the spatula.

"_Look out behind you"_ cried Blunt in a high voice, the kind of voice men get when they've been kicked in the family jewels.

Whisper drew from behind his back a long thin weapon that looked like a dildo but in actual fact was a…

(Dramatic dun dun der)

Rolling pin.

As Blunt saw this, the page went fuzzy, he was having a flash back from his child hood, it all came back to him, the mint choc chip, the telling off he was going to get, and oh yeah the rape… (Back to reality)

Whisper did a surprisingly good matrix move smacking the vampire in the head.

The village people ran away as blunt scrambled to his feet.

"_It's ok, I'm the good guy"_ blunt said as he reached his hand out to the guy who was in the opening of the scene.

"_It's ok, come with me and I'll get you some milk and cookies" _blunt said in a soft voice

The man got up, him and blunt walked out of the front door, he tripped over blunts' feathers.

"_I'M ok by the way"_ whisper shouted but then couldn't be bothered.

He followed them, trailing both his spatula and his rolling pin in a sad and pathetic way.

Well there it is my third chapter. I hope you liked it. Please, please, please write a review so I can find out what you guys/girls think. Flamers will be laughed at...

then disposed off.

I would like to thank my editors, "I'm a happy potato, Zee Germans" with out them there would be so many grammar and spelling mistakes.

Thank you.


End file.
